


A New Face: Outlast

by Whatadream24



Category: Outlast (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Asylum Life, Eddie Gluskin's POV, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Misogyny, Multi, Rape/Non-con Elements, Short Story, Slow Build, To Be Continued, Violence, Waylon Park's POV
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-06
Updated: 2016-09-17
Packaged: 2018-08-13 09:16:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7971451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whatadream24/pseuds/Whatadream24
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mount Massive Asylum? Is Waylon Park ready to jump into a contract at such a young age, when he's already got a lovely wife and two young boys? He doesn't know the dangers that lie ahead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello Readers!
> 
>  
> 
> So I haven't written an Outlast story in a very, very long time and I thought I should post this :) It's an AU, but it only takes place before the game itself starts. Waylon Park is just arriving to Mount Massive Asylum for his first day on the job! This story will be short and it will be completed! Sorry that I don't have much to say about this but I think it will be a great story and will be enjoyed by you readers :)
> 
>  
> 
> PS. I am so sorry if my writing of the interior of Mount Massive is off, but I am doing my best to describe what the building looks like :P

Well, today is the day. It's my first day at Mount Massive asylum and I'm nervous as hell; maybe the thought of being part of a contract is the cause of my anxiety or maybe because I'm going to be around mentally ill people for more than a week, huh, I have no idea. I finally pull up to the large, yet very lovely building and sit in my truck a little longer than expected. The pictures that I had sent to my email are lovely but the asylum, now that I am seeing it in person, the pictures have nothing on the real thing.

"Mr. Park," 

I am suddenly startled by a soft voice I've grown familiar with over the phone and I turn my awestruck gaze away from the building and look at the man beyond the open window of my truck. I take a deep breath of the cool autumn air and give the man a weak smile.

 

"Hello Mr. Blaire, sorry, I was just taking in the lovely view of the building," I apologize with the same smile and I can feel my sweaty palms start to shake; I have already taken my anxiety pills earlier this morning and they haven't kicked in yet. I just do my best to swallow my nerves and step out of the truck with my head up high and my shoulders back. Trying to be confident is still a struggle for me since my high school years.

Mr. Blaire shares a welcoming smile and extends his hand out to me. Damn, he's going to notice the sweat popping from my palm. So I bring my hand out to his and give his hand a confident shake. I let my arm fall back at my right side and the two of us head up towards the lovely double doors just a couple feet away from me.

 

"No need to apologize Mr. Park, my hardworking team and I do our best to keep this old building looking grand, and I'm glad you noticed," I listen to the older man speak while my eyes linger upon the lovely exterior a little more.

 

Mr. Blaire stops before we reach the steps and he turns to me with the same smile from before. "Before I show you around inside, why not we take a little stroll around outside, and you can meet a few of our patients here," the older man continues on with his story and the thought of meeting the mentally fractured patients makes the sweat seep even more from my anxiety-riddled body; you knew what you were getting yourself into Waylon, so stop being such a pansy.

 

Mr. Blaire and I take a left at the front of the building and my eyes and mind are suddenly overwhelmed at the sight of these patients wandering around the yard but the doctors sharing a smoke together calm my nerves. "Don't be alarmed Mr. Park, most of our patients here are harmless, and I think you're smart enough to to not get too close anyway," a chuckle passes his lips and all I can do is nod my head and continue to stare at the patients. As I watch them interact with and without each other, I can't fight back the sadness that I am suffocating from. Mr. Blaire leads me around the left side of the building and we reach the courtyard where a well enclosed basketball court, a few dilapidated picnic tables and a bench lifting set sits coated in filth from the many different seasons.

 

I am quick to notice a few more doctors as well as a patient here and there. Their faces look hurt and lost; I know that they don't want to be locked up in a place like this but they are here for a reason but I can't fully get over being upset about them.

Mr. Blaire stops very abruptly and I accidentally bump into the back of him. The contact pushes him a step forward but he turns around with a friendly smile while I look back at him with worry. I definitely got to quit daydreaming and keep my attention on Mr. Blaire. "I am really sorry sir-uh...I mean-" Mr. Blaire takes a couple steps forward and rests one hand on my shoulder, stopping me from saying anything more. Our eyes meet and his smile makes me nervous. 

 

"Don't worry about it and you can call me Jeremy, although I do like sir, haha, you can just call me Jeremy Mr. Park," he says to me and I begin to worry if he's actually really this friendly or if it's just for show. He takes his hand away from my shoulder and I can finally release the hot air in my lungs, continuing to follow him through the many twist and turns of the chain-link fence just to get inside of the basketball court. Mr. Blaire points at a few of the patients and gives me their names.

 

"Right there, that's Dennis, he has multi personality disorder," Mr. Blaire informs me and I look in the direction of his finger and watch Dennis singly shoot hoops . "Dennis isn't his only name though, anywho, that one is Jeff, he keeps himself away from everyone else and he doesn't talk," Jeremy points at another patient and I look again. I nod my head and take note that a lot of the patients that I have seen so far don't have hair. I question that for a bit before nearly bumping into Jeremy again after exiting the basketball court through the chain link fence.

 

I stand in place and take a good look around; the leaves are falling from the trees and they look quite beautiful even in a place like this. I notice the shrubs and the fountains from in the front of the building; it's more peaceful than I expected an asylum to be.

 

"We try not to let too many patients outside in case of any fights, but they all get their chance to come out and enjoy the changing seasons," Jeremy says to me with a faint smile and he bends over to pick up a stray golden leaf. I watch him look down at it for a moment before returning his eyes to me.

"Don't get too close with these people, Mr. Park, just remember that they aren't like you and I," he tells me with a much more serious tone and I nod my head, sliding my hands into the front pockets of my jeans. He gives me a wave, dropping the leaf and he leads me back to the front of the building. "You won't see most of the patients inside the building because we keep them on the bottom floor and we keep all the doors locked at all times," I continue to listen to Jeremy speak more about this place and the patients as we make our way towards the front of the building.

 

Once we get back to the front, I turn my head in the direction of my truck, which I see beyond the front gates and then look back over at Jeremy. "I'm just going to grab my bags," I say to him and point my thumb over my shoulder at the truck. Jeremy nods his head and waits for me at the double doors with a guard I didn't really notice until now. 

I open the door and I earn myself a loud creak, and I reach over the seat to grab my two duffel bags from the passenger side and lock the door before closing it. Huh, well, I like what I have seen so far but I haven't been inside yet, so hopefully I can keep my nerves at bay. After walking away from my truck, with both of my duffel bags over each shoulder, I meet Jeremy by the double doors and we both enter the building.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do hope this is a good update. Please stick around for more to come :)

It's only been 20 minutes since I've been here and I am really enjoying everything about this place. The building is something I can't seem to peel my eyes away from, especially the lovely, well designed, decorated and quite aromatic interior. Mr. Blaire and I make our way up to the front desk located in just the center of the administration block and I turn my attention to a sickly looking patient being pushed around in a wheelchair near what seems to be the staircase heading towards the basement of the asylum as well as an old fashioned kind of elevator. His shaded features look sad just like a few of the other patients I have met outside; something about these patients though is off, and every time I look at them, my chest tightens in a painful way.

 

"Mr. Park, Mr. Park," Mr. Blaire's soft voice and hand capture my attention and I quickly pull my gaze away from that patient, staring at the older man before me. He's smiling again and his hand drops away from my shoulder. My eyes are quick to wiggle away from his stare and notice the glassed in room to the left of me full of men on laptops; must be some kind of research room.

"Follow me, I'll show you where the cafeteria is," Mr. Blaire states with a wave of his hand and I'm back on high alert as he takes me through one of the hallways. As we continue our journey through the administration block, I am a little confused as well as equally surprised that Mr. Blaire allows some of the patients around here; I suppose that's not a bad thing, maybe the few patients that I have noticed in the administration block are completely harmless. I catch a few good traces of cologne, freshly shampooed carpeting and cigarette smoke but I don't let the jumbled up ball of scents distract me. We turn left, right and then left again before Mr. Blaire opens the sturdy door to the cafeteria. Upon entering the large room, I am quick to realize that there are only a few windows but seeing as they are out of reach, what is the point of having them when nobody can even look outside. I also notice the closed in serving area, more than a few tables scattered about and a couple soda machines here and there.

Mr. Blaire leaves me at the door and I watch him silently wander off to one of the said soda machines. I see him crouch down to pick up the fallen can. He comes back to me with two and he's quick to hand me one of the cold cans giving me another one of his too friendly of smiles. "It's almost time for dinner, want to come see what's cooking, Mr. Park?" Mr. Blaire asks and he cracks open his soda, taking a noisy sip from it. I just look down at the dirty tips of my converse and I get a gentle nudge in my side by Blaire.

"Come on, Mr. Park, after this I will show you to your room," he reassures me with that same overly friendly smile and I open my cold can of soda, carefully taking a drink from it as if I'm being judged on how well I perform the act. Mr. Blaire has a strange, yet nosy kind of aura about him and the way he lets his pale eyes linger on me for longer than I want him to just irks me a little bit.

I take my eyes off of him to relieve the tension in the air and swallow the carbonated liquid held in my cheek. We both find the way into the decent sized kitchen where Mr. Blaire introduces me to the many cooks. I quickly take note that all of the cooks in the room are men, just like most of the patients I have seen so far; my thoughts are immediately taken over by the question; 'Where are any of the women patients?' I get through smiling and trying to remember all the cooks' names but the one man that has me itching at my neck like a bad case of the hives is Frank Manera, another one of Mount Massive's patients.

The mixed, mouth watering aromas startle an unexpected rumble from the pit of my stomach and I let my unoccupied hand fall away from my neck, but I resume looking in Mr. Manera's direction.

He's wearing the same burlap scrubs as the other patients but the only difference I recognize are the latex gloves on his hands. He must be helping the cooks prepare for dinner. I don't say anything to Mr. Manera, simply because Mr. Blaire is standing right beside me and the feeling in my gut tells me to remain quiet. 

I take a long swig from the half empty soda can in my wet hand and drag my eyes over towards Mr. Blaire.

"Looks tasty guys," Mr. Blaire comments loudly and moves up behind the cook in charge near the large pot of boiling liquids over the stove top in the center of the room and sets one of his hands onto the man's shoulder. 

"Here I have potato soup and Mr. Manera over there is baking three loafs of bread," the cook dressed in white, from his head to toe says to Mr. Blaire and I watch as the two of their gazes meet. So here I stand speechless, taking the time to look around, curious on how much just these many pots, pans and utensils cost; so many sizes and way too many to count. My eyes continue to examine the large room and they stop at the sight of two officers guarding the open doorway.

Well at least I feel more safe and secure, knowing that myself as well as Mr. Manera is being watched over with two pairs of sharp eyes. I let my gaze lazily drag away from the two guards, quickly skipping over Mr. Manera and I capture the stare of Mr. Blaire yet another time today. He's awfully quick to force another smile into my line of vision and we both head for the doorway. I swallow a little pebble of nerves at the back of my throat and as we exit, my body jerks at the sound of the door clicking into place. I literally jug the last bit of soda and without a word, Mr. Blaire takes it from me and throws it in the garbage beyond the cafeteria door, reappearing before me.

I bring my eyes up from my shoes to find Mr. Blaire staring at me. Does he really have to stare? My lips quiver a little but I succeed at returning a half smile, sliding my clammy hands into the front pockets of my jeans.

 

"No need to be so jumpy, Mr. Park, now come, let me show you where you will be sleeping while you're here," he smiles at me and my muscles tighten at the sight of it while be both walk through the hall, shoulder to shoulder. I expel a subtle hot breath of air through the small part in my lips and listen to Mr. Blaire talk more about Mount Massive.


	3. Chapter 3

I gaze down at my watch and exhale a soft sigh as I enter my assigned room in the Administration block. Mr. Blaire stands over the threshold of the door, leaning his shoulder against it. I turn my entire body towards him and my smile fades; "So at what time do you normally serve dinner?" I ask simply because I don't know, mindlessly backing up into the back of chair that only jump starts my heart when the legs squeal across the half linoleum floor.

I step away from the chair and cross my arms against my heavily beating chest, trying to be as cool about it as possible. Mr. Blaire cracks a half smile and moves away from the doorway, and I watch him grab a glass from the mini cabinet above the little stainless steel sink.

This room almost resembles the dormitory I slept in during my college years; it has a bed, a flatscreen television, mini refrigerator and a sink with a little table I can do some of my late work at and a couple loveseats with a lovely coffee table, but it's much, much bigger than a dorm room only because of the loveseats against the walls including the large potted ferns in two corners of the room.

 

As I follow Mr. Blaire's eyes up towards the clock above the sink, he slowly turns to me with the glass of water he has taken from the sink and smiles, leaning backwards into the said sink. "15 minutes Mr. Park and if you'd like, you are more than welcome to join me for dinner with a few other employees?" he kindly offers me before taking a drink from his glass and he sets it down on the side counter, which is a build on to the sink and he nonchalantly walks passed me, pulling the drapes open to the only window in the room.

A welcoming bead of fading sunlight enters the room and I turn my body towards Mr. Blaire again, putting my hands in my pockets. I bring my eyes over to the door I somehow didn't notice until Mr. Blaire opens it up and pulls out a hanger. "You'll put your clothes in here Mr. Park," with that being said, I see him pick up both of my duffel bags and set them on one of the loveseats.

 

He walks passed me a second time as I keep my gaze on the orange sky outside the window. "If you'd like to follow me, we can beat the dinner line, and trust me, someone such as yourself wouldn't enjoy being there at that time," the man spills more words and I turn around with a nod of my head. "Sounds like a good idea, Mr. Blaire," we both exit the room and pass a few officers as well as doctors. They must be getting ready to release some of the patients for dinner. My thoughts suddenly go back to what Mr. Blaire said to me. What did he mean by that? Many of the men I have seen so far are definitely bigger than I am but not by much; did he mean that I am more vulnerable than anyone else and why? I get that I am lanky but I know for a fact that I look more like a man than any kind of woman.

 

..

Mr. Blaire and I are currently standing at the closed in serving area. I look beyond the thick sheet of glass and recognize the cook in charge standing before me with the food displayed out in front of him in the hot wells below my eye level. I anxiously chew on my bottom lip once my eyes graze over the aged face of the cook over to patient Frank Manera standing right beside him in his burlap scrubs. 

The patient eyes me suspiciously; I bet I stand out in since I am wearing a flannel shirt and blue jeans. I am sure that's something the patient's don't see on a regular basis. My hands grab on too tightly to the metal tray counter and Mr. Blaire notices this, giving me a soft nudge in my left side. I swallow the built up spit in the middle of my throat and nearly choke on it, turning my watery eyes to the man beside me. There's no doubt in my mind that I look pretty idiotic right now.

"Hey, don't worry Mr. Park, we are under surveillance and this entire building is being guarded by Murkoff Security forces, nothing will go wrong, I promise," Jeremy reassures me with a smile and he gives me a light tap on my shoulder, pointing at the glass in front of me. "Oh, I'm sorry, I'll take some potato soup and one slice of that bread please," I apologize with a nervous grin before giving the two cooks my order; mainly directed at the cook dressed in all white. I closely watch the hired cook grab a wooden bowl from the unknown and carefully pour a whole ladle full of soup into the said bowl before setting it into place on my tray, sliding it down to Mr. Manera.

 

I turn to see where Mr. Blaire is and he's now at the soda machine, waiting on me. I sigh again and watch Mr. Manera place the slice of wheat bread onto my tray, and I am more than a little surprised when he asks me about the dessert choices that I have been pretty oblivious to. Come on Waylon, stop being such a weirdo.

I have a choice between home-made cherry jello, butterscotch pudding or a perfectly square-cut brownie. Yum, sugar filled happiness right there! "I'll take the butterscotch pudding please," I blurt out my order with an unexpected smile, pointing at the pudding. I do my best not to look up and make eye contact with the patient but I can't help myself; we both lock eyes and I instantly freeze up. This room seems very eerie with Mr. Manera here, ugh.

Even with the perfect lighting of the cafeteria and the serving area, Frank Manera's face continues to look shaded and frightening. He scoops out the right amount of pudding and slaps it into the smaller bowl than the soup bowl. I look over my right shoulder and see Mr. Blaire waving at me from the doorway. At this moment, I would rather see Mr. Blaire's annoying smile than Mr. Manera's menacing face. Lastly, after picking my choice of beverage, I grab my tray rather quickly and skate on over to the doorway.

 

Mr. Blaire and I head out of the room and make our way back to the Administration block. "You will meet some of Murkoff's best scientists here as well as a few of our wonderful doctors," Mr. Blaire insists on telling me moments before opening the door. The first thing I notice when I step into the meeting room are the faces sitting around the nearly room length table and how small the room is; the table has got to be the reason for the walls being so close together.

The temperature has rose quite a bit and I feel my lips quiver as I smile, taking a seat between a brunette haired older man and a blond officer. Jeremy Blaire closes the door and I listen as it clicks into place. All eyes are on me, oh god. Jeremy sits down at the head of the table, with a creak and just a few seconds being in this room, he orders me to stand up and introduce myself. What the hell, this isn't high school anymore, but I stand up anyway, moments after wiping my sweaty palms on the front of my jeans.

Swallow and breathe Waylon, you don't want to choke. 

"Well, hello everyone, my name is Waylon Park, I am the Software Engineer and I am here to maintain the Morphogenic Engine," I mention to the several faces staring up at me, studying me. I don't think I will be able to hold this smile and upright position for too much longer without my knees buckling. Fortunately, Mr. Blaire tells me to take my seat and I get smiles of all kinds. 

My eyes travel across my tray of food and I pick up my spoon, starting on my soup. The food distracts my overactive mind for a bit as well as the awkward stares I'm still currently receiving. "It's very nice to meet you Mr. Park, my name is Andrew, I am one of Murkoff's scientists, and I am glad I get the chance to work alongside you," the brunette haired man gives me a little information about himself, lending out his hand. I didn't know he'd be the one sitting at my right, and I take his hand in my own, quickly feeling the temperature difference in our palms. 

I swallow a chewed up potato in my mouth and smile. "Likewise Andrew," and with that stated, our hands break away and I continue eating my food. Jeremy Blaire is the next man to stand up and I see this occur before I even lift my head up from my tray.

"Mr. Petryna, will you please stand up and give Mr. Park here some information about what you do," I listen to Mr. Blaire speak out to all of us and I raise my head up from my food, swallowing the remains in my mouth. I listen as the man's chair legs rub against the carpet and he stands up, straightening his tie with a cocky kind of grin. 

All eyes are now on him and I can feel the weight of all the stares being lifted from me. "I am Patrick Petryna," he starts with his name and I find his eyes on me. "I give every patient their needed shots and routine checkups and exams, making sure they are ready for the Morphogenic Program," he finishes his speech with the same grin across his lips and I nod my head. My food is now gone and all I have left is a carton of apple juice.

..

Mr. Blaire walks me back to my room. "I will go through the security protocols with you tomorrow morning Mr. Park, I know we went through them a few times on the phone but it's my job to make sure they are followed and respected," Jeremy mentions to me, leaning against the doorway again, with his hands in the front pockets of his dress pants.

I nod my head in agreement and smile. "Of course, Mr. Blaire, I'll be up at 8 o'clock sharp," I comment as I cross one ankle over the other, watching Mr. Blaire's eyes wander around my face. "That's what I like to hear, well, get some rest and I will show you more tomorrow," he says to me in a calm tone, his eyes glued to my flushed face. Damn Waylon, why do you have to be so awkward? As I break eye contact with Mr. Blaire, I flop down onto the loveseat but I realize that he hasn't left yet. 

I turn my head in his direction. "Goodnight Mr. Park," we both smile at his kind choice of words, which I wave to afterwards. "Goodnight, Mr. Blaire," and the older man sneaks his way out of my room, closing the door behind him.

Hm, that was kind of strange. I never thought I would be in this kind of position before but as much as I am leary of it, I am starting to really enjoy it. I reach over the coffee table, grab the remote and turn on the television across from me, set high on the wall. I am going to take his advice and rest the remainder of the night.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This new update will have slight romantic hints to Jeremy and Waylon as well as Andrew and Waylon but nothing big. ENJOY :)

BZZzz, BZZZzzz

I wake up to the vibration of the alarm going off on my cell phone underneath my pillow. A groan rolls off of my tongue and with my head still on the pillow, I slide my hand under the said pillow and grab my phone, trying to unplug the charger with just one hand. I fumble with it a bit but end up grabbing my phone and when I flip over onto my back, I stare with fuzzy eyes at the blinding screen of the phone, turning the alarm off. Normally I would hit the snooze button but I told Mr. Blaire I'd be up at 8:00 and this is one hell of a serious job. 

A little bit of light is shining through the window ahead of my bed but not much; swinging my stiff cotton covered legs out from underneath the thin covers, my bare feet meet the carpet below and I drop my head into my hands with a sigh and a yawn. 

 

I didn't exactly go to bed early last night like I should have but that's my own stupid fault; I need to be alert and ready on the job, not uncoordinated and weak. When I raise my head back up and turn my gaze over to the window, I notice that it's raining and the clouds in the sky look angrier than I have ever seen them.

Out of the blue, there is a knock at my door and being distracted by the rain outside and sleepy as I am, I jump but quickly collect myself before standing up. Just seconds before I make my way to the door, I hear the familiar beep and Mr. Blaire's face is suddenly in my line of vision. I watch him slide his access card into his front pants pocket and he flips on the lovely light above my head. I shield my eyes a little bit, but I eventually get used to the golden beams shining down upon me and notice the two coffee mugs in Mr. Blaire's hands. He closes the door with the heel of his well polished dress shoe and offers me a smile. 

"Good morning Mr. Park, how did you sleep?" he acknowledges me, setting both of the mugs down onto the little counter beside the sink, eyeing me curiously. I take in a subtle breath of the warm air and expel it out through my nose, shrugging my shoulders that ache a little bit. 

 

"I slept okay, thanks for asking," I respond with a similar smile to his and rub my puffy eyes, sitting down at the little table against the wall which is the closest thing to the door. The strong aroma of coffee and whatever Mr. Blaire is wearing makes my senses go wild. He chuckles unexpectedly and grabs both of the mugs and he comes over to take the other seat across from me. "That is unfortunate Mr. Park, well I thought I would bring you over some coffee and go through a few things before we start the day," he suggests, sliding one mug across the table towards me, while he sips gingerly at his own. 

 

His blue eyes are still on me and I absolutely hate that I can feel his gaze; it makes my lips quiver. I nod my head, continue to stare into the dark abyss of my mug while I nervously pick at the underside of the table, hoping to God that I don't actually find something. "You are very timid Mr. Park and there is no reason for you to be, you will do great for this company!" the older man says to me kindly, breaking the soft pitter patter of the rain against the window. I slowly bring my eyes up to meet his and smile, feeling my face burn up a bit; damn, how come I have been acting so strange? He takes another sip from his coffee and leans back into the wooden chair. 

"I-I apologize Mr. Blaire, I just didn't know I would be working with such an intelligent group of people," I comment carefully, lifting my mug and taking a sip from it. What? Of course I knew that, ugh, what a dumbass. 

Mr. Blaire chuckles again and it makes me shake. I set my mug down in case it 'mysteriously' slips from my hands, and cup my hands into my lap. "We are all glad to have you here Mr. Park, and I have spoken to a few other applicants before you, but they just weren't as interested in the job as you were," leaning forward, Mr. Blaire mutters with a weird kind of smile, wrapping his fingers around his mug. 

My throat instantly tightens at the sight of him and I quickly wipe the sweat away from my hands. "Haha, yeah, well I am happy to be here sir--uhh?" I ultimately freeze up at that slip of the tongue and completely look away from the man across from me, staring pathetically at the wallpaper. I can see from my peripheral that his smile is growing rather large and he stands up. Oh damn! I shouldn't be losing my cool over calling him 'sir' but my body don't seem to get it. "You know what Mr. Park," the man begins, and the calm and collected way he says my name makes my jaw lock. I turn my head and look over at him as he comes close. 

 

"You can call me sir, I don't mind that at all, in fact it sounds rather interesting coming from you, Mr. Park," he's standing right in front of me now, his startling blue eyes looking deep into mine, one of his hands on the table top, very close to my mug and his lips curved perfectly at one corner. Oh dear god, please don't let him see the sweat bubbling from my forehead or the way my lips are quivering, ugh, this is awful.

..

It doesn't take too long for Mr. Blaire and I to make our way into the underground lab. The second I make it out of the decontaminating gas chamber, which doesn't surprise me as much as I thought in the beginning, I instantly notice a mixture of smells and they aren't something I would care to be around 24/7. The change in temperature of this new area gives me unwanted chills and so do the shocked and surprised expressions on the patients' faces, enclosed in glass rooms all around me. 

Mr. Blaire must be looking in my direction to notice the expression on my face because he turns to me with a raised dark brow. "Mr. Park, don't fret, you will do fine I'm certain and the patients, they won't hurt you, they are secured behind the glass walls," Mr. Blaire tells me reassuringly and I watch his hand go up to touch the glass of a patient I haven't yet seen until now. 

Mr. Blaire stares back at the patient, who is sitting down on the only visible chair inside the four walls and slowly, he returns his attention to me. "This is strong glass, Mr. Park and we have more than a few guards who will inform us if anything goes wrong," the older man says to me, his voice natural and he gives the said glass a couple good taps with his knuckles. I nod my head mindlessly and let my hands slide easily into my pant pockets. I let my head fall and my eyes stare at the colorless cement floor beneath my shoes; 

From behind Mr. Blaire and I, I quickly come to notice one of the doors opening to a patient's cell. The telltale buzzing sound of the access card being slid confirms that and I turn around only to find Mr. Blaire quickly making his way to the cell a little ways behind where we once were. I fully turn my body and am suddenly overwhelmed by all the guards racing passed me from the left and right; some of them even bump into my shoulders more than a few times, nearly knocking me over. I keep myself as sturdy as possible and my heart starts to pick up the pace. The drumming of my heartbeat is very similar to the many booted feet racing to get to the cell. 

 

I find that my hands are shaking and my forehead's covered in an unexpected cold sweat. My vision is bubbly but I can still see enough to make out a tiny bit of the patient's features from where I am standing. I realize that all of those men that have raced passed me are only there to walk the said patient out of the glass room. Damn, I can't believe the amount of men Mr. Blaire needs to assist the most potentially dangerous patient in this asylum. 

"No need to be rough men, he's in a calm state," I earn myself a little piece of the conversation as I sneak my way closer towards the group of men with my arms frozen to my sides. Currently I am as stiff as a damn board and I haven't yet pieced together the patient's features.

I see Mr. Blaire step out of the group and his eyes instantly meet mine. "Everything is okay Mr. Park, the guards are just removing one of our larger patients out of here and back into his regular cell," the man informs me and I can tell that he is a little on edge but his smile, for once, has put my rapidly racing mind at ease. I half-heartedly return the same kind of smile and graze my eyes over Mr. Blaire's black suited shoulder and through the mini gap between a few of the guard's shoulders. 

Black hair and broad shoulders; it's all I can catch a glimpse of before they take the patient away, but being able to see the patient's head over the guards surrounding him tells me that he's definitely tall. Mr. Blaire gets my weary attention with an unwanted hand propped on my shoulder and we continue our way through the very brilliantly lit hallways into the Morphogenic Engine room. 

As the single guard opens the double doors for Mr. Blaire and I, we step inside and I am stunned at what I see. This room is very large but the space is used up quite perfectly. Looking beyond the glassed in area where the Morphogenic engine itself is, I notice a few men dressed from head to toe in blue scrubs appear from unfamiliar doors. My heart hasn't stopped racing and sadly, I don't think it will until I complete my job today.

 

Mr. Blaire is still right beside me, and finally I notice the weight of his hand leave my shoulder. "Well, hello again Mr. Park, ready to see how everything works?" Andrew, who I am very familiar with, captures my attention and I pull away from Mr. Blaire, walking up to the scientist who himself is covered in blue scrubs instead of what I saw him in last night; a nice dress shirt and dress pants. It's a little bit nerve-wracking I must say, to see all these men in scrubs, men who seem capable of pretty much anything, who are probably smarter than anyone I have ever met in college.

 

I give Andrew a nod in acknowledgement and without my knowing or consent, the scientist grabs me carefully by both of my upper arms, leads me over to one of the chairs at an unoccupied laptop and sits me down without any kind of force but yet I am taken aback by the man's eagerness or whatever the word is for being too 'hands on'.

I am also surprised that Mr. Blaire is okay with Andrew touching me in that kind of way but I push it to the back of my mind and place my clammy hands on either side of the keyboard. My eyes won't look at the busy screen; they are too transfixed on what's beyond that glass wall in front of me. Andrew is close, I can feel him over my left shoulder. To my total surprise, both of the man's blue latex gloved hands come into my view right beside my own and he leans into my right ear quietly speaking; 

"Quite a remarkable sight isn't it," he insists on creeping me out and I have no idea if I will be able to forget what's happening right now or not. I let out a sigh of hot air and nod my head, too afraid to turn my head. "You are a very intelligent young man Mr. Park, I can see it in your eyes," the scientist continues to quietly speak words of nonsense to me and I bet everyone, including Mr. Blaire are too busy with their job to pull this strange man away from me or at least move him to the other chair. I take in a deep breath of the cool air around me and swallow a ball of nerves. 

..

It's lunch time but I am not hungry, in fact I am feeling a bit sick to my stomach after having to deal with Andrew the entire time while working. I could hardly pay any attention to what I was doing but I can't blame him for that; I shouldn't let things like that get to me.

I look down at my watch; 12:30. I stand nervously as hell in the cafeteria near the door and the guard and I wonder if they allow the most dangerous patients to eat first or the less dangerous ones? That's a question I wouldn't mind having the answer to; I also would like to know more about that larger patient I only caught a glimpse of. Huh, I guess I will have to see where the rest of this day goes. 

Without Mr. Blaire at my side I do feel vulnerable but I can make it on my own; "Mr. Park, you might want to grab your lunch before we let the patients inside the cafeteria," the guard behind me acknowledges me and I take his unexpected advice quickly. I hurry to make it to the serving area, I kindly give the cooks my order and pick up my tray full of food and sit at the table closest to the guard near the door. 

I stare down at my food with my hands under the table, holding on tightly to my shaken knees. I swallow what's in my mouth and grab my fork, aiming it at a green bean.

"Stay in line, don't touch, don't talk until you are seated!" I am startled by the surprisingly loud voice of Jeremy Blaire high above any other sound and I turn to look over my shoulder and I see him leading the line of patients into the cafeteria over to the serving area. Oh god, I feel my entire body tighten and I drop the fork, hiding my hands back under the table to keep my knees from shaking again. I stare at my food again and momentarily get lost in the colors;


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you guess who the surprise character is? :)
> 
> There is a tiny bit of Waylon/Jeremy in this update

I can feel my hands shake and sweat; the patients form a very long line at the serving area and while they take their orders, I sit here and remain as quiet as humanly possible.

Jeremy interrupts my quiet time and steals the seat at my right. "You know you don't have to eat here, Mr. Park, you are welcome to have lunch with me if you'd like," the older man says to me in a very welcoming tone of voice that has me looking in his direction. Our eyes meet in a strange kind of way and I can feel my face practically ignite. 

I swallow the chewed up remains of a green bean in my mouth and pick up another one with my fork. "I-I'm fine eating here Mr. Blaire, but thanks," I acknowledge the man with a friendly smile and bring my eyes down to the food beneath my chin. I don't pay attention to Mr. Blaire's reaction, speeding up my chewing a little bit. He puts an unexpected hand on the middle of my back though and I suddenly become immobile. My forehead tightens and I kind of choke on my food but he doesn't notice.

"Alright Mr. Park, just remember, these people that you see are not like you and me," he informs me with something I already know and he pats me once on the back before removing his hand to stand up. I furrow my brows and stare mindlessly down at my crumb covered tray. I am too dumbfounded to lift my head and give him my eyes.

"Yes Mr. Blaire," I whisper without really meaning to and I hear the clicking of his dress shoes across the cement floor, disappearing out of the large room. Phew, he's finally gone; am I crazy for feeling more safe around these patients than I do around Mr. Blaire? I'll probably never figure out the answer for that question. Slowly but surely, the cafeteria becomes full of voices and conversations; I stand up, grab my tray with both of my clammy hands and as I walk back over to the serving area, my eyes draw themselves to my left and land directly on a large patient with Raven black hair, sitting alone at one of the corner tables.

I see the guards standing a distance from the large man yet still close enough to pounce if the patient happens to burst out in a random fit of rage. Compared to the other patients, this man seems like the biggest one I have seen so far. Is he the one I caught snippets of in the underground lab? I question it a bit and in the process, I end up bumping into a patient, who in retaliation grabs me by the front of my shirt and violently slams me up against a wall. 

 

My tray falls and the sound is loud. The voices go silent unlike the roaring sounds of boots running across the floor. "Fucking watch yourself pretty boy!" the startling man growls at me, our faces so damn close. The patient is pulled off me and when I can stand completely back on my feet, I notice the pain in my back and from over the shoulders of the guards, I see that black haired man standing. 

I watch him look my way as he picks up his tray and returns it to the serving area, with the two guards on either side of him. That man is at least 6'8 and 300 lbs at the most. His large body size and height make me a little timid but he doesn't bother to give me the stink eye like a few of the patients have given me already. I look away from the large patient and I find Mr. Blaire running up to me, slapping both of his hands on my shoulders. "Are you alright, Mr. Park?" he asks me and I can see the worry in his blue eyes and I hear it in his voice.

His fingers pinch the material of my shirt and I nod my head, giving him a weak smile. "I think I am, my back hurts a bit but I'm sure I'll be fine," I reassure him and bring my clammy hand up to grab Jeremy's but he has his arm around my shoulders within seconds that I ponder and walks me out of the cafeteria.

..

We both enter the morphogenic engine room and I carefully sit down at the desk, looking through dry eyes at the computer screen before me. My back is suddenly on fire and I wiggle out of utter discomfort but I don't draw much attention. I am very relieved to know that Andrew isn't in the room; actually, I see him beyond the wall of glass.

"Come to my office when you're done for the day Mr. Park," Jeremy Blaire whispers against my ear, slightly leaning his body into my chair, causing me to get caught between the said chair and the desk. Hm? Why in the world do I need to go see him after hours? I am confused and worried as hell, but I can't disobey my boss; I really need this job. I finish up, exit the room and run my hand across my flushed face, while leaning my aching back against the door. I can't really bend myself forward without my back bursting into fiery shocks of pain, fuck that guy! 

I wander down the narrow hallway, admiring the painted walls and the carpet beneath my feet. I also enjoy the sudden smell of coffee and the yummy wafting aroma of what I ate for dinner still lingering in the air.

I make it to Mr. Blaire's office but I stop the minute I see his name printed across the door. Why am I here, I didn't do anything wrong? Just before I knock my knuckles against the tough wood, I am surprised to see Jeremy right before me as the door opens with a faint creak; man, there are a lot of rusty hinges in this place.

"You made it, well, come on in Mr. Park and have a seat on the couch," he kindly invites me inside his large office and he closes the door. The click makes me jump a little bit but I subtly shrug my shoulders and plant myself right down on the mahogany velvet upholstered couch with two large potted ferns on either side of it. I examine the lovely decorated room with my hands tucked between my knees and watch Mr. Blaire come towards me from his desk with a half smile on his very wet lips; What?? why the hell did I even take the time to look at his lips? 

"I am very sorry for what happened to you earlier, I imagine your back is aching," Jeremy says to me and his tone is very soft and caring, as he claims the spot beside me, leaning back into the velvet upholstery. I let out a quiet, nervous hum and turn my eyes down to my feet, recognizing Mr. Blaire's cologne. 

"Yeah a little bit," I respond quieter than I imagined and turn my head to look over at him. I watch him cross one foot over his knee and out of the blue, one of his hands rests carefully onto the middle of my back, seeing that I am bent forward into my lap and the heat from his palm itself soothes the aches almost instantly, but I can still feel the tightness of the muscles. Silence overpowers the two of us and I swallow a ball of nerves, bringing my eyes back down.

"I'd like to help with your aches Mr. Park," his soft voice causes me to shiver unexpectedly and I am ready to stand back up but his hand and random pain in my spine causes me to sit right back down. What the hell am I supposed to do, let my boss give me a fucking massage? "Mr. Blaire, uh, I should probably, uh, get back to my room," I try my best to not sound so desperate to leave, but it comes out that way anyway. Damn Waylon, why do you have to be so damn obvious about everything?

Jeremy makes circles in the middle of my back with his thumb and the contact surprises me even more. He uncrosses his foot from his knee and leans forward into his lap, giving me a strange kind of smile. "Don't worry Mr. Park, I won't do anything that will hurt your back more, just sit here and I'll fix you up a cold drink," he tells me with another half smile and I just nod my head, looking down at the miniscule loops in the carpet. Why am I still here, I have to get my ass to bed, huh, oh well. I suppose it would be kind of rude of me to leave before having a drink with my boss.


End file.
